Assassins Love
by XXA Mad Tea PartyXX
Summary: In his favorite City was his last mission, his first mistake and the only one he loves. Malik/Altair Slash


My first story, what a relief to finally get something up. It's been a fight between myself and myself, half wanting to publish and half not. With the persuasive push from some friends I have and I hope you enjoy it. :D

Also I realize Altair isn't Desmond's direct grandfather but it would've been a bit ridiculous to say great great...so on grandfather.

"And so Altair, this will be your final trip to Jerusalem. Return here with the blood of Robert De Sable." Altair hesitated a nod, not because of his mission, no, he was glad to have the mission of this man's death in his hands.

"Final sir? I am not to return to Jerusalem? What of Malik? I am his only company, what of that?" The assassin questioned. Al Mualim turned his head the slightest bit to glance over at the young man before returning his gaze to the windows and what lay outside.

"Malik will be returning here to work as the researcher and coordinator of our maps. Do not worry Altair; he will not be left alone." Altair gave a quick nod before jumping down to the entrance, sprinting off to the gates of Masyaf.

"_So…you're gay?_" Altair glared at his grand grandson, Desmond, the man's persona floating above him, the horse he rode picking up speed past some civilians.

"What of it child?" He shot back, Desmond laughed.

"Well I mean…I'm here right? So…how did you...since you're...you know?" Altair sat in silence, the horse cocking its head to the side, its feet slamming against the ground in furious speed to Jerusalem.

"I make not of what you tell me. " The man shrugged, "_Guess I'll ask Lucy..._" He mumbled, returning into Altair, the assassin moving quickly past the civilians to the gates of the beautiful city. Altair was happy for his friend for the times he was the Bureau leader of such a place. He needed that sweet smell and lovely sight to take away from the fact he was no longer a skilled assassin and Altair bared such the guilt of the incident. Hoping off his horse, he led it to the hay, giving it a long stroke before blending in with the scholars, the men in white willingly leading him past the guards. He always wondered why they never noticed him, not even a little. He bore a visible knife and sword and his garb was only slightly similar to that of the scholars and yet the guards raised no objections. They really were stupid. Un-blending, he thanked the men before climbing to the nearest building, scaling the others and running to each, moving closer and closer to the Bureau. Altair always knew he was getting close when he smelled the sweet scent of burning flowers; it was how Malik let him know where he was, like a moth to flame. Jumping to the Bureau, he slid down into the no door building, moving into the other room where his friend of years was bent over, playing around the map with his ever present compass.

"_Oh I get it! You like him but he doesn't know! Well shit Grandpa just tell him!_" Desmond chimed in, his persona shoved back inside by the angered assassin.

"Oh Altair, I didn't see you there." Malik stood strait, giving the other a nod; Altair hid his face into his hood, "I-…Robert De Sable, where may I find the information on him?" Malik circled three places on his map.

"Here you can find some of my informants, they may give you answers and I hear the chapel has some of his men, perhaps eavesdropping." Altair gave a slight nod, sighing softly as he headed to the other room to rest a bit. He laid himself down in the pillows, cuddling up to the biggest one, for a moment, maybe just a single fleeting second, he could imagine it was his best friend.

Even though he could see Malik held no malice towards him any longer, the weight of the burden lay heavily still on his shoulders, his work becoming sloppy every time he was in Jerusalem. However he couldn't stagger, not today, not with whom he faced. After eight successful assassinations, he wouldn't fall to the ninth. Climbing up and out of the Bureau, Altair jumped from roof to roof until he located an informer, hoping down to the man to ask for information. "Altair! Two of Robert's men caught me eavesdropping, kill them and I'll tell you what I learned." The assassin nodded and quickly made his way to the templar's, killing them both silently and in places only the crazy roamed, they would provide no evidence. Having taken care of the two men, Altair returned to collect the information. "Well from what I hear, Robert is attending the funeral of one of your assassinated men, it'll be sometime this afternoon, however I do not know which graveyard it'll be at. Try the chapel, there's a man spouting nonsense about Robert, interrogate him and you'll have answers." Altair thanked the informer who bowed in silence and took off, his feet carrying him quickly past archers and to the tallest chapel. There he found a man, just as the informer had stated, calling out about Robert's greatness and successful nature, the thoughts sickened the assassin but continue to stab his brain with questions. Al Mualim, what was their master really up to? Altair shook his head of the thought and waited for the man to begin a journey elsewhere. Quickly he blended and followed the man, waiting until they were in a secluded area, then; he beat the man, punching at him until he caved. "Please! Spare me!" The man cried, falling to his knees and covering his face from any coming blows, Altair rested his fists. "Tell me at what time and at which graveyard shall the ceremony be held?" The man nodded, standing, arms still covering his bloodied face.

"o-one, at the graveyard over by the second church! Inside!" Altair nodded then quickly embraced the man, stabbing his stomach as he did so. Dragging the body into a hay stack, the assassin made quickly to the Bureau, hopping in and dusting himself.

"Altair, have you gathered the information?" The assassin nodded lightly, his face still not meeting Malik's. "All right then...tell me what you know." Altair relayed the information, his face never once moving anywhere but the floor, he saw Malik give a light nod. "Sounds good…here." Laying out the feather, Altair quickly took it and slipped it into his pocket. "Malik…before I do this...because we both know what could happen, I-I wanted to apologize. I can't say how sorry I am for your arm's death as well as your brother, I messed up in the biggest way, I'm so sorry." Malik reached over, taking Altair's chin and forcing the hazy grey eyes to look into his darker ones. "You don't understand. I don't forgive you." The assassin choked back any tears threatening to come, "I-I understand." Malik shook his head, "you don't Altair. I don't forgive you because you have nothing to apologize for. As far as I can see your a different person from the one at Solomon's temple, you're the Altair I knew a in my early years. More compassionate, kinder to civilians, pretty much clumsy still but with the skill of a master." Altair fought back a blush, nodding lightly, "thank you Malik." The older nodded his head before pulling the young into a gentle kiss, Altair's eyes widening beyond normal. Pulling away Malik smiled a cocky smile; the one Altair had been dying to see. "You had better return friend." Altair smiled back, "safety and peace Malik." The other simply nodded, "your presence delivers me both. Now rest, you have a big assassination ahead of you."

"Malik!" An informer came rushing through the rooftop, clothes drenched in blood, the bureau leader stared with shock, "what is it? What is the matter?" The informer was wide eyes, his hood and mouth piece drawn down. "I-It's master Altair, he, it wasn't Robert there, but a woman, Altair was tricked and attacked by thirty or more guards! He fought as best he could, we all tried to help but we couldn't kill them all. We had to force Altair out of battle; he-he's seriously injured! On the way a few times, I could've sworn his breath stopped." Malik's own breath caught in his throat. "Where is he!?" The informer pointed, "Their bringing him down, Malik we need a healer!" The bureau leader growled, "I can do it, here! Lay him gently or it's your heads!" The other two informers nodded and laid the barely breathing assassin on the pillows. The white uniform was stained red, Altair's sword was still tightly gripped in the man's hand, his breath hardly audible, his chest barely rising, and blood quickly pooling and staining the pillows. Malik bent down and shouted at the informers, demanding the gauze, anesthetic, blankets from the back and warm water with a cloth.

It took all of two hours to patch and sew up the younger, having to strip him off his uniform, pants not included and weapons. Malik sighed softly at his handiwork; his hand's stained with the other's blood. Altair had sustained major injuries, having been bound over his chest, head, eye, arms and middle. Stitches placed on his wrist, thigh and cheek. The man looked absolutely horrible but better than he had. The informers had changed, their clothes tossed into a fire. "Master Malik, what can we do?" The Bureau leader sighed, "Go out and scout." The three nodded and headed out, leaving the two. "I told you, I told you not to get hurt!" Malik slammed his fist next to the head, Altair's breath slowing before returning, and the older bit back tears. "God dammit Altair, you can't let me lose you to. You're all I have left." Desmond watched from his place, his eyes saddened, "don't worry! He's gonna live! I'm here…" However the assurance went unheard, the only one able to hear was Altair. "Grandpa wake up! Come on!" Altair's mouth twitched, his eye cracking open just a bit at the request, Desmond smiled. A shaky hand rose to wipe a tear from Malik's eye. "I-I'm sorry… "The older stared, his hand reached to cup the one that threatened to fall, "you better not let it happen again." Altair smiled weakly, "agreed." Malik leaned down, brushing his lips ever so softly against Altair's, his hand brushing a cheek softly.

"No! No!" Desmond protested, sitting up in the animus, he glared at Lucy. "I wanted to see more!" She laughed.

"I know Desmond, I do to but you need rest, trust me. Well, before, I want you to meet someone. Come here." The baby assassin hoped out of the Animus and followed the blonde questioning her the entire way.

"So who is it?" She smirked, "A descendent of Malik's." Desmond blushed, she wasn't thinking.

"Lucy!" She laughed and opened a door, "well it worked with Altair and two more of your decedents so I figure it'll work with you." The blonde led him to another door and when she opened it there stood a tanned man. He was taller than Desmond, a little older the man could tell and had on similar garb to him, pants and a sweater. His hair was just as Malik's, though his face softer and less hard. "Desmond, this is Enzo." The man stuck out his hand, smiling.

"Well hi there; I didn't know ya were here. If I did I woulda came and visited ya." Desmond blushed, cursing himself and his blasted ancestor. He let his hand extend, Enzo taking it in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Desmond broke out into a fluster fit, his hand retracting to cover his face, Lucy smirked form her place.

"Wanna get some coffee? Lucy here tells me Abstergo actually has decent coffee." The baby assassin nodded lightly, following Enzo out, flipping off the blonde on his way out. She laughed.

"You'll thank me later Desmond." She whispered.


End file.
